The old swing on Mama’s front porch squeaked as Carlos and I pushed with our feet against the wood railing. Leftover pizza crusts sat on a plate on the floor. We each had a cold bottle of beer.

“I really appreciate the food, Mace.” He clinked his Bud bottle against mine. “I missed dinner.”

“No problem.” I added a silent thank-you to my little sister, much wiser than I am in the ways of men. “Crazy day, huh?”

“Yeah. You could say that.” He swigged from the bottle. “I don’t know what’s in the water here, but things aren’t quite as peaceful as I thought they’d be when I moved up from Miami.”

I held my tongue. We’d gone around on this topic before, like other topics. I usually ended up getting mad about Carlos’ notion that Himmarshee was some kind of bizarro-world version of Mayberry. Truth is, bad things happen anywhere. It just so happened in the last year or so our little town had experienced more than its share of bad things. And since Mama had managed to stumble right into a couple of them, my sisters and I had become necessarily familiar with murder investigations, not to mention with Carlos as the investigator.

“Do you think the hog’s head is related to Ronnie’s murder?” I asked him.

This was the first chance I had to ask questions. He’d had no time earlier; and then I let him eat. Maddie, Marty, and I had hung around for more than an hour in front of Alice’s with a few of the other neighbors. We’d watched the authorities come and go, and speculated about what the butchered animal might mean. But talk was all it was. Nobody really knew anything.

Carlos sipped his beer thoughtfully before he answered. “It seems like a pretty strange coincidence if the two things aren’t related. Better safe than sorry, which is why I asked for the scene to be processed as if it’s part of the homicide investigation.”

I would have followed up, but I was a bit distracted. From my angle, I could see into Mama’s front window. My sisters lurked behind the curtain like Mutt and Jeff. I couldn’t see Mama, but I was fairly certain she was eavesdropping right behind them, probably holding that ridiculous dog. I wanted to say something scandalous just to see what they’d do.

Carlos, you look good enough to eat. Why don’t we forget our differences, rip off our clothes, and do the wild thing right here on Mama’s front porch swing?

But, of course, I didn’t say that. I called through the window instead. “Maddie, Marty, why don’t y’all come on out here?”

The curtain moved. I heard quick steps inside, and an annoyed growl from Teensy. Then, Maddie’s voice drifted through the house from the kitchen. “What’s that, Mace? Did you want another beer?”

“We’ve barely started these. But sure, why don’t you bring them out? Put ’em on the ring pillow. Let’s have Mama’s little dog practice toting them on his back.”

More running around inside. Now Mama’s voice came from her bedroom, which opens onto the opposite side of the porch.

“Mace, honey, you’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you from way inside here. Did you say something about Teensy?”

I got up, opened the front door and hissed into the living room: “I said, it’s a good thing poor Alice took a sleeping pill with the three of you shouting and stomping around. Now, come on out on the porch and Carlos will fill us in on what he can.”

In no time, Maddie, Marty, and Mama squished themselves together on a white wicker love seat across from the swing. Unable to help herself, Mama motioned me to move closer to Carlos. He caught her signal and looked amused, which was fairly humiliating.

Now, hands folded in their laps, they looked at Carlos expectantly. Three teacher’s pets in the classroom’s front row. He cleared his throat.

“You know I can’t talk about much. It’s an ongoing investigation.”

Their faces fell, like the teacher just chose somebody else to help take attendance.

He relented. “I can tell you the medical examiner will check the knife wounds on Ronnie’s body against the hog’s head to see if the same weapon was used.”

“I knew it!” Mama said. “It’s just like on CSI.”

Carlos smiled. “Well, not exactly. There’s a lot of dramatic license on TV and in the movies. And don’t get me started on murder mystery books.”

He spent the next few minutes trying to establish what we heard from Alice’s house and when we heard it. Of course, we couldn’t agree on the answers to those crucial questions.

“Teensy would have barked if he heard anything before Alice screamed,” Mama insisted.

“Are you kidding? A serial killer could have been hiding with a hatchet in the next room and your dog wouldn’t have given a whit,” I said. “Don’t you remember? I’d just come in with the pizza and Teensy’s whole being was focused on getting a bite off somebody’s slice.”

“No, ma’am.” Mama shook her head firmly. “I do not remember that. Teensy knows better than to beg from the table.”

Even Marty snorted at that. “Sure, Mama. And you never steal food off my plate before I’m done either.”

“All right, all right.” Maddie, in the middle, put a hand on each of their knees. “We can all agree that Teensy—and Mama—are easily distracted by food.”

“Ring. Ring.” I held out a pretend phone to Maddie. “The black kettle wants to talk to you, Pot.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Is that a crack about my weight?”

I was just about to say if the feedbag fits … when I noticed that familiar vein at Carlos’ temple beginning to pulse. He was trying to hold something in, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to.

“Would everybody just shut up?”

Mama gasped. Carlos had used the S-word, a sin in her book. She’d always made us say hush instead. “Only low-class types and Yankees tell people to shut up,” Mama used to lecture us. Since Carlos was originally from Cuba, which is farther south than us, it was clear which of those two camps his shutup-saying self fell into.

To his credit, he took one look at Mama’s frozen face and realized his verbal boo-boo.

“Sorry, Rosalee.” He wore that contrite look he’d been brushing up on since he moved to Himmarshee. “I just wish you four wouldn’t bicker so much. It reminds me of the first night I met you. Sometimes I wish I’d tossed you all into jail and thrown away the key.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I felt a frown coming on.

“Here’s a shovel, Carlos,” Maddie said. “Go ahead and dig yourself in deeper.”

Carlos naming Mama as a murder suspect was still a sore subject with me. Not to mention the fact he was insulting our family dynamics. Anybody with two eyes can see we love each other, even though we pick a little.

“Too bad you had to be content with just violating Mama’s rights,” I said. “Imagine sending a senior citizen, a Sunday school teacher, to the slammer.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me a senior citizen, Mace.”

I ignored Mama’s pout. “You’re lucky any of us forgave you, Carlos.”

“Oh yeah, I’m lucky all right …”

“Stop it!” Marty said, and both Carlos and I were taken aback. “I think Carlos was right earlier when he said there’s something strange in the water up here.”

“So y’all were listening in …” I started.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mace. Shut up!” Marty’s voice was soft, which made her rude use of the S-word no less shocking.

Mama blinked. Maddie’s mouth opened and closed without her uttering a single word. My face burned. Even Carlos didn’t seem to know how to react.

Marty leaned over and tried to pat my knee, but I jerked my leg away. “Sorry to say it so plainly, honey, but somebody needs to tell you to quit looking at every word anybody says as the start to a fight.”

I felt akin to that hog on Alice’s porch. Decapitated by the sharp, uncharacteristic criticism from my normally sweet sister. I sipped at my beer and stewed. Everyone else was quiet, too.